FateStay Knight
by Cunningham-Hughes
Summary: The 7th Holy Grail War. A battle between 21 of histories most legendary heroes, and mightiest mages of the age. To the winner of the globe spanning conflict, a single wish from the omnipotent device...To any daring master who may heed the call, remember always, only those worthy of themselves will be worthy of the Grail and it's magisty.


12/27/2014

DISCLAIMER: The following content is used for parody, and for non-profit creative exercise. With expressed intent of re imagining source material and cannon.

DISCLAIMER: All submissions are open to objective criticism and discussion of content. The Author will not participate in subjective or speculative observation. English criticism is welcome with the intent of respectful observation and intent of Author's growth (must have 2-3 years of experience or more).

Summary: (FATE ROUTE) OCxSaber. This is a speculative iteration of the source material, catering to a nuanced re imagining of core cannon.

FATE/STAY KNIGHT

Prologue

"You are loved Roy. I promise you."

Those were the last words Saber said to the boy as she carried him amidst the smoldering rubble. Enveloped in the smoke and burning stone, her wish had slipped away with the other thousands of unwilling souls sacrificed that night.

Nearby no siren could be heard against the crackling of the brilliant flames, and no life remained but his. The rest had been given for him in a single moment, and wanting nothing more than to cry and sound her utter anguish out onto the world, she masked her pain with the comforting sounds of the long breaths the boy drew into his heavy chest.

As she carried him away to safety, she would wait with every last extension of her will to hold on until the dawn.

In time she would lay him amongst the rubble to rest far from the fire and smoke, and then she would fade into the air. Leaving what remained of the battles end. War had fallen upon the serene and tranquil city, and not a single ignorant soul would ever know, if only for him.

####

In twenty six years of life, Roy had always been able to put into words the scene which had haunted his dreams.

Upon the hallowed hill where the woman had always stood, it seemed impossible for her to escape the skewered bodies showered across the plains, each identity of the knights hidden by their helmets, and their shining armor impaled by swords, spears, and arrows of every make.

It was a terrible view by any account. Through all the years he had braved the deathly mound trying to reach her.

The woman seemed untouched by any mark of war, neither on her blue battle dress, nor on the locks of her golden blonde hair, or the armor hiding her form. Everything but her fair complexion was blemished, with a single line of blood coming down over her left eye and past her emerald irises.

Between them, there had never been much to say.

Roy had looked on awe struck by her beauty, and she had only viewed him with the worst anxiety.

And before the dream would always end, Roy would never leave without hearing two cursed words he had forsaken from his vocabulary. "I'm sorry"

Then he would wake.

####

Roy awoke in his home, and to the view of metropolitan Vancouver below. There were sparkling lights everywhere, and the lamp on his desk was his contribution to the battle against the night outside.

Sheltered by the warmth of air conditioning, Roy had come to in a pool of his own drool with some spit still dripping from his lips. The pool settled below his keyboard and row of three monitors had been the resting place for his head again during the long lonely night of writing.

What was a therapeutic method to try and get some sleep had begun taking longer each night to reach the point of exhaustion. Now while it was a good way to write another bestselling novel to add to his stuffed résumé, it was annoying knowing the black Australian Shepherd sleeping on the cozy leather couch behind him slept better.

As he turned in his chair to take in the site of his small office, He looked over to see it was about 4'clock, almost time to wake up.

"Roomie, wake up dummy. Go grab your leash, let's go the first walk of the day."

The dog perked his ears to the groggy tone, and opened his hefty dark brown eyes, and sat up to reveal the one white spot of fur of his shaggy mane.

"You heard me Hubble lets go for a walk."

Hubble turned his head, and jumped off the couch, conjuring all his energy as fast as he could. It was time to go and by the enthusiasm on his face.

Hubble led the way out of the room, as Roy got up and grabbed his coat from the hook and left.

In the atrium, he found consistent proof he was living on top of the world. The penthouse he had taken residence in was made with the finest refinements to the cement columns, walls, and all its halls. Depending on the occasional visitor, most found it resembled a cold and modernized paradise hidden in the sky, despite the marble floors, masterwork modern furniture, designer kitchen, 4 rooms, parlor and 3 bathrooms, with a thick set of blinds to hide whatever the single resident occupying the two floors of the top story home was doing. For all intent it was a realm of solitude.

And Roy aimed to keep it that way.

With a quick glance in the mirror, Roy fixed his shaggy red hair and scratched his bloodshot silver eyes and pale face. No matter how comfortable he felt wearing the same outfit two days in a row it was a subconscious priority of him to primp himself up in the mirror to make sure he looked like himself at all times before he went out into the snow covered city.

####

When both reached park down the way, Roy took careful steps down the walkway coated in black ice hidden by the veil of night during his evening break.

For the longest time the park had been another place of solace at so late an hour and at the time, an area for quiet contemplation. Adorned in leafless trees, a coat of light snow and benches cleared of the ice by the public works seemed romantic in the purest sense of the season, with a subtle glow of the street lights to bring it all together. The weird idea though was, if not for the fact he was walking a dog, he would be the strangest person here, at least in his eyes.

"Ok dude, so is it one or two?"

Hubble met his eyes with a canine's discontent, perked brows and peaked ears. He seemed more annoyed at the question than humorous.

Roy turned away to let the dog relieve himself.

Staring off to occupy his time, Roy found there was not much to be seen so late at night. The air was cold, so he tried to make a poor version of smoke signals, which evaporated back into the air in an instant. Fixed behind him a sole lamp pole was situated next to a water fountain in the middle of the park. Inspiring little intrigue Roy began to look out onto the quiet English bay.

Across the north shore he saw a few lights of the friendly homes going up into the snowcapped ranges overlooking Vancouver.

The Canadian winter felt colder since the turn of the New Year days ago. The temperate ocean air could be frigid, the beautiful snowfalls had turned to storms cursed by fast freezing slush, and risky drivers had made conditions more extreme. Today was the first quiet night in weeks.

"So, you done yet?"

Roy ignored the fountain in his peripheral vision, and reached for a poop bag in his pocket, knowing he smelt what lie ahead for him.

Before he leaned in, he saw a figure beneath the park streetlamp. And as he focused, he saw her again, the figure from his dreams. Free of all outstanding marks, her form was radiant amongst the glistening ice hanging above the ground and undisturbed snow.

The only difference versus the vision was her stern expression, long hair drawn up in a bun and tied up by a blue bow, long blue silk cloak, and sword and scabbard she supported with her hands. She stood sentinel as if guarding the area.

Roy didn't know what to say or do; all he could muster was a strong force to keep his eyes shut.

"This is reality; you are not insane Roy, just breath."

Finished with his motion, Hubble pointed his long nose out and sniffed the cool air, searching for what only Roy thought he could see.

The deep breaths did nothing to keep his stress at bay, and after opening his eyes again she was gone. Where she had stood, no impressions had been left by either her boots or the tip of her scabbard.

Nothing had come to pass beside the sound of a few gusts of wind and the echoing of sirens disappearing late into the night. In the east he saw the morning light began to peak on the horizon.

In a situation like this there was only a single thing he could do, call the only man he knew to be up at all hours of the night.

####

Amidst a nap at his desk, Shawn was resting under his desk lamp amongst a fold of old books, resting against the soft make of the hide pages. To the sound of vibrating and noisy ring of his cellphone, he picked up knowing who it was.

"Good morning Roy."

He spook in the calmest fashion to derail the impending anxiety dump his friend would provide.

"Shawn Dresdin! My friend, compadre, comrade, how are you this lovely morning were?" said Roy, adjusting his voice to the required accents of each language.

"Wishing it were spring so we may get the rain."

Shawn began to evoke the most casual sense of indifference he could spawn to antagonize his friend.

"Spare me the seasonal puns please?"

"Sure, anyway what's up?"

Shawn left his old wooden office chair to walk amongst the first floor of home and pace, making his way between all the areas sectioned off by his many filled bookshelves, and columns supporting his loft.

"You know how some times the brain has a way of flushing sanity down the toilet on occasion?" Roy was anxious but sincere to the point.

Ignoring the barks of Hubble and loud gusts in the background, Shawn tried to gather his thoughts.

"Yes your cranium in particular does this a lot."

There was a brief insulting silence between the two as Shawn made his way toward the kitchen.

"Are you done?"

"I'll strike again when you are least prepared."

"Ok anyway… I saw her again."

"The woman from the drawing or should I say the pictures you keep in your sketchbook?"

"Get out of my life!...No I saw her in real life, standing right in the middle of the park. I was taking Hubble for our morning walk to kill some stress and then puff there she is! I saw her, pretty face, armor and all, I'm getting the shakes again dude something is off!"

Shawn said something to intervene and to stop Roy's momentous rambling.

"Ok… so go get some weed… That'll make this situation funnier…"

"You're only making this worse!" said Roy, his voice distorted by his own angry grumbling.

Taking a coke from the fridge and finishing up making his sandwich, Shawn ventured over with meal in hand to find one his most favored tomes, hoping to find some answer to the simple matter at hand.

"Alright, this is your best friend speaking now. Go home, sleep, and drink some warm milk or green tea. It sounds as if your brain is fried. How long have you been working the past few days anyways?" Shawn asked before he opened massive cover of the maroon tome.

"I've been pulling eighteen hour days to try and get the latest one done…"

Shawn fixed his glasses, ran his hand through his shoulder length brown locks and took a deep breath before he answered.

"When you looked into the mirror last time, did your bloodshot eyes look like they were at the point of shattering?"

"Yes."

"Then take a day and forget your deadline, your weeks ahead anyway."

"But being punctual is my thing."

"It shouldn't be if it's making you sick."

"Ok mom."

"Someone has to take care of you." said Shawn with a self-satisfying expression taking over his face.

"Next time I'm calling Eric…"

"And on the off chance one of his children or his wife pick up?"

"Uncle Roy doesn't take orders from them!"

"It's because you ask for advice you get so much trouble."

"I love you to…" the sarcasm was all too obvious in his voice.

"Well Shawn, thanks again man, I'll call you later tomorrow or something. Let's have a gaming session or talk shop sound good?"

"Sure talk to you later."

Both said their goodbyes and hung up.

Alone for the rest of the morning, Shawn opened the old tome to a specific section. There in the middle of the diagrams and ancient runic text painted in red, Shawn found the appropriate markings of a summoning circle.

Soon he would inscribe the incantation in mercury on the floor of his basement to summon an ancient familiar. What concerns he drew from the text though, was nothing involving the summoning's complex instructions, but what after effects summoning such a certain familiar may have. These were issues he had considered during the entire time he had known Roy.

The most pressing being the link between a familiar and their summoner. From what the text told him, both during the familiar's time on this plane they would share a complex bond, an emotional link where similarities would sever the boarders of personal distinctions and reveal eithers most complex motivations.

Such was the role of Master and servant when competing in the Holy Grail War.

"Roy I didn't want you to see any of this. This is not and never was your fight."

Returning to the texts at his desk, Shawn returned the book and opened a chest he had hidden in the locked drawer in his desk. He unlocked the chest and in the safety of the cloth interior he took the golden and faded handle of a sword.

Inscribed upon the handle was the finest of patterns, chipped away by time and held together by the protection of dense earth. Greek by design and forged by the most ancient and finest smiths, Shawn for months had been the only one to know what secrets the artifact held.

"Seventeen down and four to go, now who else will you make heed your devious call?"

####

After so much mental turmoil, Roy had taken it upon himself to again seek the counsel of one of his wisest friends, if only to have a chance at seeking creative consultation and an a decent drinking companion.

In the midst of the night, Roy's driver pulled up in the snow and to the large wood doors of the Hazelwood estate. Inside the 19th century relic was one of his dearest friends, and a man so stuck in the past he preferred the cold walls of a castle to the support of a modern home, or so he said, since he had renovated his inheritance to keep it up to present standard. He had made Hatley Castle an abode once reserved for British royals his home and a worthy monument to western architecture. For a historian of such prestige though it only made sense.

The structure at its center had an ornate three story tower, and then surrounding it were the makings of a fine home forged from fine stone, and covered in a thick and lush blanket of leaves. From under the warm light of the stone archway the rest of the lamps behinds the ornate windows of the home at least gave the indication its residents were home.

But before he could even order his driver away someone one of the homes occupants knew he had arrived.

Roy leaned in to knock on the large ebony door, preferring the subtle force of his fist to the loud bell hanging in the tower to signal his arrival. Nothing about the home was reserved, but rather beautiful for all its lack of subtly.

Roy tried to knock again, but was greeted instead, by both of the child Hazelwood's

"What do you want!"

A young girl stared Roy down with and intense glare from the oriental fold of her eyes and stepped forward first, on behalf of her younger brother, both bearing a striking resemblance to their mother, and demanding a response of the man.

"Rosy, may I see your father?" Roy responded in the most tolerant and indulgent fashion he could.

The girl primed her thin red brim glasses and threw her jet black hair back to the sound of her own grumbling. Beside her the young boy folded his arms and puffed up his lips and shook his arms.

"What are you getting us for our Birthdays?" his high pitched voice almost made Roy laugh. But then again the girl hadn't made his effort at concealment any easier.

"You're as honest as your mother William."

Roy resisted rolling his eyes until Mrs. Hazelwood arrived to wrangle up their offspring.

"Good evening Chief Misaki, I hope you're not having another late night."

"No not at all, flexible hours remember?"

"Of course."

Before he addressed them again Roy tapped the roof of the black Lincoln and sent his driver away for the time being.

"Eric's in his office, come on inside before you get cold."

"Vindictive Children." Arthur came through the threshold and shot the kids a maniacal grin.

"Evil life sucking adult."

Shoulder to shoulder, Rosy and William spoke out in unison, both in unified protest.

Msaki walked with Roy deeper into the atrium to remind him of his innocent sin, even taking him under her arm to whisper to him.

"Are you going to start writing their favorite character again any time soon?"

"No." said Roy about to snicker.

"And so the cycle of revenge continues, anyway he's put drinks on and everything already, you two have a good night, I'm going to go and take care of these two."

With a last glance at the silk banners flowing down from the ceiling, the range of eastern and western medieval weapons hanging on the wall, more proof three quarters of the estate had furnishings no younger than fifty years old. The family had made its living in teaching, writing, collecting, and obsessing over history. If not for the air conditioning system, Wi-Fi, cable, new plumbing, and total refurbishment the former Hazelwood's had had done, the family lived in a structure which paid total homage to a more romantic age of thought and edicts.

From the atrium Roy made his way to the homes west wing and the library Eric occupied his entire life. During his occupation, he had tuned the two floors of bookshelves into his office and permanent home workspace. Tonight Roy found Eric at rest in one of the tall arm chairs positioned before one of the home's four other fireplaces.

If not for his height, the 6'8 gentle giant could have hidden himself in the chair, but as Roy made his quiet approach he could tell the professor was deep in thought, with a thick book in his lap and a fixed look to the aged pages he held in his massive hands fire in front of him.

Eric pressed both of his palms against each other as Roy took the seat across from him and announced himself with a casual salute.

"Yo Prof. Rock. How goes the deep thought?"

Adorned in his typical collegiate attire and big and tall brown suit, gleaming slicked back dark hair, thick sideburns, and legitimate bifocals, the lack of serious address would have seemed an issue to one of Eric's adoring students, but with so many years of success behind them, neither could give their efforts so much severity any more. The professor on the other hand, if not for his off putting humor, exude a strict demeanor.

"I'm surprised…"

The deep bass of Eric's voice set a dominating tone the moment he spoke.

"What?" asked Roy about to laugh, giving his friend little credibility.

"You didn't ask for me to cook SAUSAGE over the fire."

Eric gave the word the most innocent and hilarious emphasis he could.

"SAUSAGE"

Both we're ready to pick up where they had left off a few days ago, even if they had to reintroduce themselves in the manner of dude bro adolescents.

"How you doing brother?" asked Eric enjoying the mutual chuckle.

"I'm good…I'm good… so shall we get on with the topics at large?"

"Of course."

First they spoke of recent world events, their concerns over those happenings, possible resolutions to those issues, and then made fun of politics, both indulging upon the sweet burgundy nectar known as scotch if to make the transition to personal topics easier.

After the first hour and a half had past, Roy had finished his one and only glass for the evening, drinking enough to get the edge off alone and no more so as to preserve his dignity. Versus his friend who's broad muscular body alone could filter out the worst and most pleasurable elements of drink with ease, even after a few glasses.

"So when are you going to bring back Blaster Bunny and Jolly Jellyfish, I think my kids are going to kill me if I don't persuade you."

Eric couldn't resist torturing his friend with an inside joke. Roy took it in stride and both laughed.

"Like I said, maybe after we fix global warming."

Roy kept the glass in hand, rolling the fine groves through his hands to keep himself distracted from the question he had been preparing all night, the one he hopped to spare himself and his friend.

"Since neither of us are strangers to the speculative realm, Eric if I said my imagination was beginning to escape out into reality, what would you have to say?"

At this point, all humor was put aside.

"I know you are quite the active dreamer, and even day dreamer, but what are you referring to?

Eric put his book aside, moved to put another log on the fire, and took his seat again to grant his friend his full attention.

Roy looked over to him, as Roy sought for his friend to answer the question for himself.

"You're referring to her aren't you, the blonde woman?"

Roy nodded his head before he responded.

"Yeah…I can't keep the girl out of my dreams."

Despite the nature of the statement, the longevity of the figure's presence in his life was beginning to perturb them both.

"Does Shawn know?" asked Eric as he cozied up his chair.

"Called him first…Am I at the point should call the guys in white who work at the happy hotel, or am I not the crazy guy in the tower yet?"

Roy put on a sincere and worried smile.

"Neither. When was the last time you got a full night sleep?" asked Eric.

"I think about two months ago…" Roy itched at the dark rolls beneath his bloodshot eyes.

"Has anything else been on your mind?"

"Work." Roy said with a silly variety of shame.

"After being friends with you for ten years brother, it's fair to say you may be turning jack into a dull boy."

"So?"

"Buddy… you put your heart into everything, but even commitment can become unhealthy."

"Eric, it's how I work, if I'm not consistent, and obsessed, doubt will get in the way." Roy was at least being honest with his friend.

"And when was the last time you weren't learning a skill, working, or taking the dog… be honest when was the last time you had a break?"

"I watched Infinity War Part II last night…"

Eric interrupted.

"Not with the intent of artistic observation, or inspiring an existential line of though?"

"No… I always try and learn from what I see?"

Roy tried to make himself sound funny and turn the question on his friend.

"Go home and take a break after this."

Eric's advice plain and brief, but what Roy needed to hear. For the next hour they spoke of their favorite shows, critiqued the newest works of fiction, movies, games, they were coinsurers of all kinds; you name it they brought it up. With a speculative foundation in mind Roy asked his next question with the impossible in mind.

"This girl Eric, what if she is out there, I mean I have a great imagination, but this scene I see her in, it always been more real than anything I could dream up, what if she is out there…and I need to go and look or something?"

Giving way to one drink Roy was beginning to feel a hit of exhaustion.

Eric tried to gather is thoughts and convey an answer to at least be fair and uplifting.

"It took me a few years to find Misaki, and to get her to tie the knot, who says the right girl isn't out there at least. As for the blonde, I don't know buddy, I say for the best results… keep your hopes held high, but don't keep your head held low."

The reference to the A Day to Remember song both had heard on many occasions was the appropriate affirmation Eric could think of to not dispel any of his friend's ideas.

"Ok…ok…keep on keeping on and don't forget to take a breather once in a while Roy." The summary made for a perfect summary of the night's conversation.

What remained then was the conclusion to their evening, and so the two friends banged their glasses together one last time to give as a toast to continued friendship, Roy called his driver. Together the friends walked until they reached the entrance and archway to say their goodbyes.

"Well Shepard, when do you think I'll see you next?"

With the welcome Mass Effect reference in mind Roy considered how long the day had been, the sooner the better sounded good in his mind.

"How about next time you have a moment free, whenever you want to go to Sullivan's, we haven't been to the bar in a while?" Eric asked.

"Sounds like a solid plan to me Prof. Rock."

Roy and Eric shook hands then, and parted ways. With the long day behind him, as well as some unnecessary turmoil, the ride home for once felt relaxing.

####

At last home on the top of Vancouver's central metropolitan skyscraper the Shang Gri La Tower, Roy was met at the entrance of his penthouse abode by Hubble. The dog jumped on him barked and tried to soil his face with saliva, but was subdued by overwhelming belly itch. The approach of the dog was not one of playful intent though, Once free of Hubble, Roy checked his mobile.

"3AM, I remember when we used to hang out at Gramps house, and he had to make the 45 min home…ugh…"

As he scrolled through the phone Roy had lost touch with his immediate surroundings, and caught up with the stimulus on the screen. Dominated by shadows the home was serene in the darkness, from the second floor balcony overlooking the bar and living room, he could see out onto the city below, and the empty roadways lit up by street lights. Even from his offhand view of the kitchen though, he took no notice of the figure standing before the dinner table in the dining room.

With black garb and the darkest of complexions the only outstanding feature of the muscle bound female form was her long dangling her, tattered wraps, knives tied at her waist, her dull gold earrings, and distinguishable white mask of a skull she wore upon her face. A mask fixed above her mouth and the only contrast to reveal herself in the dark.

Roy walked from the atrium into the kitchen beside the room where she reside, turned on the light and saw nothing as he moved for the refrigerator. For all he knew the woman in black was never there. Once he had found nothing of interest, he turned off the lights and went upstairs with the dog in tow. He'd hope he would sleep through the day and into the next if he could.

At his side Hubble continued to bite at his hand, his owner of all people was benign to the terror lurking in the dark.

In his bedroom he turned on the lights again, to find only the king size bed in the master bedroom, two nightstands, a dresser, closed closet entrance, a large television hanging above his dresser, knickknacks from his pocket which had piled up over the days on the top of his dresser, a closed door, and an unlit bathroom.

Roy gave way to impulse fast and fell upon the bed, without even reaching the pillows, and with a long arm turned off his light. In an attempt to sleep, Roy tried to shut his eyes to the sound of Hubble barking.

"SHUT UP DOG!"

Hubble didn't stop. Without leaving him to bark, Roy turned over to look at the dog at the end of the bed and before she could disappear in a plume of smoke situated on the floor.

"Dog… never listen to me when I say shut up again!"

Roy questioned his senses at the moment, but despite his exhaustion rolled over to his nightstand, and from his drawer pulled out a silenced black tactical colt 45, ready to use it with little remorse for his home and unlucky home invader, whatever it was.

Beneath the barrel, Roy made sure to turn on the firearms laser sight and flashlight. When it came to an invasion of any respect, Roy had no tolerance for those who would hurt his friends or him.

From behind, the figure watched from the closest, and with the subtle throw of two needles the woman struck them both down. The the devices sunk into their legs. Hubble fell, but in a quick act Roy picked the dog, shot for the closest multiple times and picked the dog up.

The desperate dash continued as Roy carried Hubble downstairs and back to the front door to find it locked. As he scrambled to open the door way, dog and gun in hand, he turned to see more plumes of smoke appear across the whole of the long atrium.

On the guardrails, in the halls of the first floor, atop the wall fixtures, and in plain sight, masked figures of all sizes and form appeared, some men, others women, and amongst them even children.

By adrenaline alone Roy was driving his body in attempt to escape, and against the whimpers of Hubble, he opened the door to the lit hallway and the elevator, with another figure waiting for him beyond the threshold.

"Hello."

In the most haunting and cool fashion, the grind in his voice impressed upon Roy the thought of his inevitable doom.

Just then, Roy succumb to his impulse of immediate desperation and pressed past the man and in hasty limp and ran towards the elevator.

Falling to the weight of his own body, Roy fell over against the wall and dropped Hubble, no pile of blood was pooling up, but Roy could fell all his senses beginning to fail. The needles were not meant to be lethal, but tranquilize them.

The only thing to keep Roy awake was the burn on his left hand. A sensation so intense he felt as if hot metal was being impressed upon his skin, like a cattle prod was trying to brand him or at least scar him.

"OW God, what the hell man!"

Roy grabbed the guardrail of the elevators interior, and down the hall he saw the man he had the entrance to his home. Unaware of whatever buttons he was about to press, Roy slammed the first row of buttons to close the door, and began his descent to the garage of the building, with only the door of the lift to protect them.

The ride was agonizing, from the fresh burn to Hubble's cries. Roy couldn't make a measure of when it would end, security should have seen him by now but hadn't, and no one had heard the scrambling and the gunshots. If anyone was going to come by now they would have already come. Roy knew they were alone.

The elevator door opened to the flickering lights of the building's garage and the unscathed concrete floor, ceiling, and walls. In a hurry and struggle to get up, Roy checked the Garage for his would be assailants. Across the way was his personal garage and potential escape, to the contraire given his opponents fantastic abilities, such an idea made him reconsider the staggered advance which he knew lay in store. He couldn't stay, but he couldn't run either. And the better odds said he should move.

As he took he first step out with Hubble in his arms, another wave of needles flew toward him, without the intent to slow him this time. No sooner did he know his would be captors had an obvious upper hand now.

From his grasp Hubble flew and hit the ground a few feet ahead of from where Roy fell. With the sedative flowing through his veins, Roy had gone numb to the new pain, and the sensation of his legs. All he could do was crawl towards Hubble. In no instant would he ever let a friend get hurt.

Before him the man with the skull mask appeared again, designed with the same features of his predecessors.

The Assassin and its extensions knew they would see no trouble from their target, their Master wanted nothing more than Roy's immediate demise to secure his removal from the Grail war, and then an observation of what he had to hide. It was easy to infer given his age, Roy Winters may as a mage, accumulated some things of value. Assassin had found nothing of concern though.

With not even a glance Assassin made sure to look past his target and toward the few drops of blood Roy had left in his wake.

"Why do all this?" Roy asked amidst his own painful grunts.

"Orders." Assassin elected to respond in the simplest fashion.

"I never did anything to you…" said Roy as he watched Hubble take even deeper breaths.

"Thank you for putting up a respectable front. Your last stand has made for a satisfying end."

Assassin, at least this extension respected a target who put up worthy resistance, with such futile tools, and an obvious lack of aptitude for magic, Assassin knew little could be done to indulge himself any longer with a target who lacked any qualifications as a mage. It was a characteristic Assassin could sense upon Roy, with any use of his greater awareness.

"Your last words let me take them…and your weapon, I want a memento to your struggle, no one should know a will like yours went to waste."

"This is a memento to another. You can't take it…"

Roy brought the gun forward and tried to at least before he lost all feeling in his arm shoot at Assassin a last time.

"Your name, what is it?"

Assassin asked before making his demand."…now the memento."

Assassin would not be denied.

"I'm not dying here today…I have people to help… a dog to save…and a dream to chase after."

Roy gripped the handle of the gun tighter, hanging on to the last bit of life he could draw from his body.

The lights of the garage then gave way to blackness and from beneath the brand on Roy's hand a subtle blue glow appeared. As he revealed the conjured orb of dull blue light the air of the underground gave way to a mighty wind which scattered Assassins in all its forms. Then a strong gust blew open the nearby garage door, and from outside drew in the first light of the dawn, with the door flung aside in the sudden storm, and Roy flipped on his back. In the instant brilliance of the orb, all parties went blind to its abrupt majesty.

Before him, adorned in a long blue battledress, cloak, and standing clad in illuminating platinum armor, a young woman stood before him, and a fine blue bow to keep her hair bound together.

To greet him she turned meet him eye to eye. And as if meeting her again for first time Roy, he became lost in her radiant emerald eyes.

And with a tone of supreme calm, and a soft voice, she at last addressed him after what seemed to be an eternity.

"Are you my Master?"


End file.
